


The Second Proposal

by izayoi_no_mikoto



Series: An Indecent Proposal [2]
Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Face Slapping, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Misunderstandings, Nonnies Made Me Do It, Talking It Out Like Adults
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-02
Packaged: 2019-01-05 07:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12185991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/izayoi_no_mikoto/pseuds/izayoi_no_mikoto
Summary: They aren't the brash boys they used to be.  They can actually talk, now, if they try.





	The Second Proposal

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place *mumble mumble* years after Part 1.

Wolfram had crawled into Yuuri's bed, wearing his traditional pink nightgown, and was already beginning to nod off when Yuuri unexpectedly spoke.  "You know I didn't _know_ I was proposing to you, right?"

Wolfram sluggishly blinked, his sleep-fogged mind struggling to parse Yuuri's words.  "What?" he mumbled into his pillow.

"When I slapped you, back when I first came here," Yuuri said.  "I didn't know I was proposing to you."

Wolfram rubbed his eyes and rolled over beneath the covers.  Then Yuuri's words sank in, and he was instantly awake.

"What?" Wolfram exclaimed, shooting upright in bed.  "What do you mean, _you didn't know_?"

"I didn't know," Yuuri repeated helplessly, fidgeting and casting his eyes this way and that, looking everywhere except at Wolfram.  He always acted like Wolfram was so _unreasonable_ , it drove him mad.  "I didn't know that slapping someone was a marriage proposal."

Wolfram stared at him, gaping.  "How do you _not know_?" he demanded.  "How _else_ are you supposed to propose to someone?"  Then a suspicion sneaked up on him.  "Wait, how _do_ you propose marriage back where you're from?"

"Not by _slapping_ someone," Yuuri said in a huff.  "In the West, you get down on one knee, a lot of people do that nowadays.  Or you just, you know, ask?  Without slapping?"

Wolfram could only gawp.  "Unbelievable," he muttered, shaking his head.  "Of all the ridiculous–-"

And then, suddenly, an awful truth dawned on him.

Of course.  Of _course_.  When it came to the subject of their engagement, Yuuri had always seemed flighty, dismissive, downright weirded out even.  Wolfram had always brushed it off as one thing or another–- _he's trying to insult me, he's playing hard-to-get, he's a wimp, he's a cheater, he's immature, he's indecisive_ , there were as many excuses as there were pieces of cutlery at a formal dinner–-but somehow, he had failed to consider one horrible possibility, one fatal truth.

"You didn't want to be engaged to me," Wolfram whispered.  And then, with a sickening hole opening up in his stomach:  "You _don't_ want to be engaged to me."

Yuuri shrugged uncomfortably, his eyes fixed on the floor.  "Well, I mean, uh."  He swallowed.  "I didn't," he admitted.  "Back then.  Because I didn't know you, and I didn't mean to propose to you, and.  Yeah."

Wolfram gripped the covers in both hands, stared at the fabric with eyes that were rapidly blurring.

"But," Yuuri said, hedging, and he sounded so awkward, how could Wolfram just sit here and listen to this?  He wanted to storm from the room, but his entire body was frozen, unable to move.  "That's not... it's different," Yuuri said, bumbling and graceless, as though that were an explanation.  "Now and back then, I mean.  I know more, now.  And, uh," he stumbled, hemmed and hawed, and Wolfram squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the guillotine to fall.  "You're here," Yuuri blurted at last.

Wolfram looked up jerkily.  He could barely breathe.  "What?" he asked, his voice thick.

"You're here," Yuuri repeated, and he waved his arms wildly in the air, indicating-–who knew?  Them?  This room?  Wolfram in his bed?  "You're here," Yuuri said, the words almost exploding out of him.  "Do you think you'd still be here if I didn't want you here?"

Something soft and weak fluttered in Wolfram's chest, as gentle as a butterfly's wings against his heart.  He sniffed, wiped his nose on the back of his hand, pulled himself together.  "Yuuri," he said, lifting his chin, "what are you trying to say?"

Yuuri spluttered, lots of sounds that meant nothing at all.  Wolfram tried to wait him out and couldn't.  "Stop, Yuuri, just-–just stop," he finally said, holding one hand up.

Yuuri went blessedly silent.

Wolfram took a deep breath.  He _wanted_ to make a big ado about this, to scream and rant and maybe break something, but this wasn't the kind of situation where a little bit of dramatics would get his point across.  That might just push Yuuri away, and this–-this was too big, too important.  So he took a deep breath and took his emotions in hand.

"Clearly we've been talking past each other," Wolfram said.  It was, if he might say so himself, very reasonable and adult of him; he was very proud of that, even if his voice did waver.  "Because things are different between here and Earth.  But I think we understand things better now?"

Yuuri kept his mouth shut, but he nodded, if a bit frantically.

"Okay."  Another deep breath.  "Then you just–-whatever you're trying to say, just say it the way you would back on Earth.  And whatever I have to say, I'll say it the way I would here.  Because I think we understand what those things mean, now."

Wolfram could barely eke the words out past the lump in his throat, and he was sure he couldn't manage a single syllable more.  For a long moment, Yuuri just stood there, and Wolfram's heart clenched, because if he hadn't understood Yuuri, if Yuuri didn't understand him, then-–

Yuuri stepped forward.  He approached the bed, one slow step at a time.  When he at last reached the bedside, he hesitated, and then he knelt down, one knee to the floor.

"Wolfram," Yuuri said.  He stuttered on Wolfram's name and his face was bright, bright red, but he kept talking.  "Wolfram, I want to marry you.  Will you marry me?"

Wolfram gazed at him, his heart swelling until he thought it might burst, and then he lifted his right hand and slapped Yuuri's cheek with all the strength he could muster.

**Author's Note:**

> (Inspired by the prompt: 100 words of face slapping)


End file.
